


Trying to Turn the Tide

by NoPerson



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry needs a hug, Gen, Major Character Injury, Sickfic, set early season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 17:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoPerson/pseuds/NoPerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a strange encounter with a mysterious metahuman, Barry starts feeling a bit under the weather. When this supposed sickness starts transforming into something much worse, he and his team have to find a way to reverse it before it leads to his doom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

I.

Contrary to popular belief, Barry doesn’t try to seek out danger, it just happens to be naturally attracted to him. 

Sure, he and his fellow teammates make decisions and considering what they regularly face up against, their decisions often come with dangerous consequences. Still, he isn’t consciously trying to invite danger to come and slap him across the face.

Recently, things have been particularly crazy and dangerous for Barry. Ever since his friends came back to him after his long six months of penance, Barry’s been trying to readjust to the fact that there are once more people in his life ready and willing to stand by his side. Of course there are good days and bad days for all of them, but he’s almost forgotten how great it is to have people around him that he can talk to and rely on. With more metahumans appearing, some even sent from another world, Barry’s glad that his friends are there to help get rid of the threats to Central City as a team, everyone still able to work together as a well-oiled machine even after all this time.

The guilt’s still there, though. It’s great to be around his friends again, but there’s still a pit that opens up in his stomach whenever he thinks about what happened and how he should have been able to prevent it, even if everyone is constantly reassuring him that there was nothing he could have done. In Caitlin and Cisco, he sees Ronnie, a close friend to both of them and so much more to one. In Iris, he sees Eddie and the future they could have had together. Though his friends may have forgiven him, he knows he will never be able to fully forgive himself.

So, it’s another day, another dangerous threat that Barry really should have been expecting considering their track record.

But, no matter the fact that his day’s likely to end in a spectacularly horrible and unexpected way, that doesn’t mean it has to start abnormally, even if his concept of normal is just a little different from others. 

As usual, Barry wakes up late and successfully starts a chain reaction of tardiness that stretches all the way from his forgotten alarm to the disapproving look on Captain Singh’s face when he finally comes into the precinct wearing a sheepish expression.

Today, there are no new crime scenes to visit and collect evidence from, so Barry instead chooses to spend his time processing the evidence he does have and filling out reports that should have been done ages ago.

Barry skips breakfast in favor of some lukewarm coffee because screw tardiness, there’s no way he’s giving up his caffeine. As an afterthought, he eats a couple of the calorie bars that Cisco made for him a year ago, keeping in mind that him passing out at work would definitely not be a good way to start the day. With caffeine and calories mixing happily in his system, Barry’s able to complete a sizeable chunk of his work, though he tragically has to skip out on his lunch in order to do so. 

Barry has to wonder what everyone else is doing. Though there haven’t been any major calls into the precinct, he’s sure that Joe still has plenty of his own work to handle, so Barry figures he’s probably doing something of his own downstairs. Cisco, Caitlin, and Jay are most likely at S.T.A.R. Labs, doing what they do best in the name of science until a call comes in about a crime or a metahuman attack. Iris is definitely at CCPN, typing away furiously at her keyboard and uncovering the latest news until duty calls with Team Flash. Though he’s glad that his friends are all busy, he kind of wishes that one of them would stop by with food so he won’t have to speed out and get some. 

While he’s busy pondering his meal choices, his cell phone starts buzzing and sliding across his stack of finished paperwork, Cisco’s face flashing across the screen every few seconds. Either Cisco needs someone possessing advanced healing to test out a new invention of his or there’s a new threat that the Flash needs to take care of. Part of Barry dreads what this could mean while another part is anxious to get back in the suit, anxious for a change in pace.

On the third buzz, Barry finally reaches over and grabs the phone, answering the call as he brings it up to his ear. “What’s up, Cisco?”

“There’s been an attack at Mercury Labs, the botanical division!” Cisco says, voice urgent.

Immediately, Barry puts aside all of the thoughts he once had of his work, switching his focus to this new development. “On my way.”

And he is. In a matter of seconds, he’s changed into his suit and he’s speeding away, racing with the hope of making it to Mercury Labs in time to be of assistance. This is what Barry loves. Speeding down streets, feeling the lightning, the power of the speed force coursing through his veins with a clear goal in mind paving his way. He zips around corners, taking shortcuts through alleys and weaving around traffic.

Barry makes it to Mercury Labs quickly, well aware of Cisco working the coms, ready to provide Barry with aid when necessary.

Barry wastes no time hanging around outside of the laboratories, he just runs straight inside until his lack of knowledge on the facility’s layout becomes apparent. He finds himself running around in circles, completely unaware where the botanical labs are located at. 

“Uh, Cisco?” Barry starts. He wonders if the employees will still find it odd to discover the Flash practically chasing himself around the building.

“Yeah, buddy?” Cisco replies. His mouth sounds full and there’s a faint crunch over the line. Barry’s a little ticked off that he doesn’t have his fair share of chips at the moment.

“Where am I going?”

“Oh, right!” There’s a pause for a few seconds as Cisco pulls up a map of the building. In the meantime, Barry saves the falling mug of a lab tech who had just been in the process of dropping it. “Fifth floor.”

“Got it!” Barry responds and in seconds, he’s reached the correct destination.

Everything is messed up when he gets there.

The plants that had once been resting patiently in pots are now strewn across the floor in clutter of soil, torn leaves, and pieces of destroyed ceramic pots. All of the equipment is damaged, glass broken in jagged shards and microscopes stripped down to piles of broken parts. In the far corner, a particularly large machine that looks vaguely like a printer is throwing off sparks, three unusual spikes sticking out of its front. Under a faraway counter, Barry can see three scientists in lab coats huddled together in hiding. So far, there’s no sign of whatever could have done this so he decides to check on the scientists first. 

Barry crouches down low so he can look them over for any injuries. All he finds are their terrified expressions, faces devoid of all color and eyes opened wide.

“Are any of you hurt?” He asks just in case there’s something he didn’t see. All three of them shake their heads in negative responses. “What happened here?”

One of them, a woman, swallows thickly and meets his eyes. “She was so angry. She… she just tore everything apart.”

Another woman speaks up. “All our research…” She mourns.

“Is she still here?” He asks.

All three shake their heads once more. “She took off,” The man says. “Don’t know where to, though.”

Barry nods. “Thank you.”

Once more he’s on his feet and racing out of Mercury Labs. “Know where she’s headed?”

Cisco snorts. “Dude, we don’t even know what she looks like! Try checking around, she couldn’t have gotten far.” There’s a pause before Cisco continues on a tangent. “Hey, did you see anything reminiscent of Little Shop of Horrors in there? ‘Cause, if so, you have to get me it.”

“Cisco, now’s not really the time.” Barry says.

There’s a bit of grumbling on the other end of the line, but Cisco seems to have chosen not to pester him about it this time.

He starts weaving through the nearby streets, searching for anyone who could possibly be their mystery woman.

Finally, he comes across someone out of the ordinary in an alley a few blocks away from Mercury Labs. He skids to a stop, stance wide as he stands ready to face this woman whose back is turned.

Barry calls out to her, ready to face whatever challenge she may present. “What did you want at Mercury Labs?”

She turns to face him and Barry quickly takes in her appearance. She wears a long lab coat, not unlike the ones the scientists were wearing back at the botany lab, but hers is tattered and worn, covered in smudges of dirt with the cuffs of her sleeves torn. Underneath, she wears an emerald dress, one that would probably be considered nice and casual before it was transformed to a similar state as her lab coat. The sneakers she wears are just as bad and her dark hair is greasy and pulled away in a loose bun. Of course, her eyes are covered in a black mask, possibly the only new item residing on her body. 

“That’s none of your business!” She yells back.

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. Barry shrugs. “You just made it my business by attacking those people.”

She narrows her eyes at him through the mask. “They all deserved it!” She tries to defend her actions in a routine that Barry’s all too familiar with. “After what happened to me, they needed to know what it was like!”

Her anger quickly escalates and she starts to change. She raises her arms and Barry watches in horror as the skin there raises and hardens, forming spikes that glisten and rise and grimly remind Barry of the spikes that were sticking out of the machine back at the lab. Barry stares for a long time because seriously, a human with spikes sticking out of her arms is a new one.

It gets even crazier when she flicks out her arms, sending three spikes flying toward him with scary accuracy.

He dodges the first two easily. The final one, following closely behind the second, cuts close to his right arm, slicing through the shoulder of the suit and leaving a long, shallow cut across his skin.

He can almost hear Cisco’s outraged cries in his head as soon as the suit gets cut, but he tries to ignore that for the moment. By the time he looks back up from observing the new tear, the woman is gone and Barry is trying to think of a good way to break the news to Cisco.

Barry raises his hand and presses it against his ear. “Cisco, she’s gone. I’m heading back.”

“See ya soon.” Cisco replies.

As he’s just started to head over to S.T.A.R. Labs, his world tips to the side. Head spinning enough to transform him into the very first human centrifuge, he slows down and leans heavily against a brick wall. Nausea burns momentarily in his throat, forcing him to slam his eyes shut in an attempt to keep the vomit at bay. Luckily, the feeling soon passes and he stands up, confused and disoriented. Neither of those sensations are a good sign.

“Yo, Barry, you okay?” Cisco’s voice fades in and out and Barry tries to shake his head to get the effect to go away. His voice returns to a normal volume. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” He replies almost instantly, instinctively dismissing this weird attack of dizziness. He’s still a bit disoriented by the short episode but he figures it’s due to his particularly strange eating schedule today. “Don’t think I ate enough.”

Cisco makes a noise at him like a disapproving parent. “We’ll fix that, just get your ass back here.”

Barry nods even though he knows Cisco can’t see the motion, and he runs away, trying to shake the feeling of unease off of his back.


	2. Chapter Two

II.

The next day, Barry feels like crap.

After their mysterious metahuman got away, Barry had gone back to S.T.A.R. Labs and eaten about fifty meals from Big Belly Burger while Cisco mourned the tear in his precious suit. Caitlin, Jay, and the bitter Cisco had discussed the metahuman’s abilities with Barry until he chose to go home early, his energy drained. He had left them with Caitlin and Jay conversing at a computer and Cisco muttering angrily under his breath as he examined his suit. Barry had sped into his bedroom immediately upon arriving home, not sparing a second to greet Joe and Iris as he fell into his bed and succumbed to the gracious lull of sleep. 

As per usual, he slaps the snooze button instinctually every time it starts to scream and as a result, he manages to sleep through his alarm three times. He’s just so tired and unusually sore and every inch of him is begging to just lie down and rest for centuries. And he’s completely willing to do that if his alarm would stop bugging him. At this rate, though, he’s surely going to be as late as late can be and on the receiving end of a particularly loud reprimand from the captain but he can’t find it in him to actually get up and move.

That is, until the nausea churns in his gut, burning his insides like a stream of lava and threatening to spill over and he’s running to the bathroom down the hall, barely making it in time to fall to his knees and vomit into the toilet.

Barry spends at least ten minutes there, his knees going numb on the hard floor and sweat dripping down his neck. He heaves and heaves until his chest aches and his dinner’s gone and nothing comes out of his mouth except stringy and disgusting yellow bile. 

He’s considering moving permanently into the bathroom when Joe decides to make an appearance, likely coming to make sure Barry doesn’t lose his job. Barry can hear his footsteps stomping upstairs, heavy and shaking the floor subtly but it’s enough movement to make Barry tremble and lurch for the toilet again.

“Barr!” Joe calls out. “You gotta get up!”

Barry wonders if Joe will be sympathetic toward his current predicament. Sure, when Barry was a kid, Joe was always willing to stay home and nurse a sick Barry back to health. But it’s been years since Barry was last sick enough to stay home. As a matter of fact, Barry didn’t even know he could get sick since becoming the Flash.

Joe finally passes by the open doorway of the bathroom, fully dressed in his suit with his overcoat folded over his arm. He stops when he notices Barry’s shape in the bathroom and Barry can’t help but smile weakly at him in a greeting he’s sure looks pathetic. He’s certain that he looks like a sweaty mess at the moment, which will probably win him points in the sympathy category.

Immediately, Joe’s face transforms from slightly irritated to outright concern. He makes his way over to Barry swiftly, crouching down next to him. He wrinkles his nose when he spies what’s floating around in the toilet bowl, but that doesn’t stop him from ready out a steady hand and placing it against Barry’s forehead. Right now, Barry feels like he’s overheating and Joe’s skin is cool and dry, a nice contrast that Barry welcomes eagerly as he leans into his foster father’s touch.

“You can get sick?” Joe asks, his voice a mixture of both surprise and concern.

Barry closes his eyes and hums in response. It would be nice to just let all of his strength fade away here and now so he could sleep forever, but he doubts his body would like him sleeping on the cold tile floor of the bathroom. 

Despite the comfort that Joe’s hand provides, his stomach chooses to continue its rebellion and Barry’s eyes snap open. He leans back over the toilet, pulling away from Joe’s hand. Once more, his body works mercilessly to expel what’s left in his stomach, which is almost nothing, so Barry wonders if he’ll start throwing up pieces of his stomach soon. Joe’s still there, rubbing soothing circles on Barry’s back as his muscles spasm violently. 

This round of vomiting soon ends. If he thought he was exhausted before, now he’s drained completely of all energy that had been remaining, leaving him a shivering wreck that needs to lean back against Joe for support.

“Yeah.” Joe says. “You’re staying home. I’ll tell Singh and S.T.A.R. Labs.”

Barry sighs in relief and closes his eyes again. Between fits of illness, it had completely slipped his mind that he would need to tell some people about his tragic inability to rise from the bathroom floor, rendering him completely incapable of even exiting the house.

“Alright,” Joe starts adjusting both himself and Barry so they can get up soon, even if Barry doesn’t want to. “Bedroom or couch?”

Barry considers the question for a minute. The darkness and silence of his room would be nice, but Barry would like to be closer to the kitchen if his stomach ever decides to sign a peace treaty. Besides, Iris is probably already at work and Joe will be gone soon, so Barry will be the only person in the house. He won’t have to worry about hiding away while he’s sick.

“Couch.” He finally manages to force out. He feels the slightest movement against his back as Joe nods.

As carefully as he can, Barry starts to sit forward so Joe can get up and help him. It’s a slow process, especially so when compared to Barry’s usual pace, but soon enough, Joe has Barry standing with the sick man’s arm slung across Joe’s shoulders so Joe can help him get downstairs. Distantly, Barry hears Joe flush the toilet as they’re leaving but he’s too tired to even care.

They take the steps one at a time. Barry keeps his eyes focused on his feet, watching carefully as he takes on each shaky step. Joe speaks words of encouragement in his ear and while Barry appreciates the motivation, he still feels like a child learning how to walk for the first time.

They make it downstairs without Barry falling, which he counts as a miracle. Joe helps Barry lie down on the couch and Barry lets out a sigh of relief as the cushions envelop him. His eyes are shut once again and he focuses on not letting his unsettled stomach control him. He feels Joe run his fingers affectionately through his sweaty hair, hand hovering briefly over his forehead.

“I’ll be back.” Joe whispers and the hand is gone, his heavy footsteps retreating up the stairs, much quicker now that he doesn’t have to worry about carrying most of Barry’s weight. 

Barry waits patiently, drifting around in his own little semi-conscious world. His head is fuzzy and unfocused, not necessarily forming a headache but rather forming a pressure that could develop into one. His stomach is uneasy, taunting Barry with its potential to make him vomit again. He’s never realized how cold it is downstairs until his previous state of excessive heat turns into an uncomfortable state of cold sweats. Usually, he’s in this constant existence of warmth due to his rapidly moving cells. It’s a little disconcerting that he can be so cold without the aid of a cold gun. He’s shivering and his teeth are chattering and if he wasn’t so sure that it would jar his stomach, he would curl up in a ball.

Barry’s alerted to Joe’s return by a short gust of wind followed by a soft and warm blanket drifting down gently to cover his body. Before, Barry had felt overwhelmingly hot in the bathroom but now he’s chilled to the core, leaving the blanket an absolutely blissful item to have obtained. Joe’s hand now feels warm as he carefully tilts Barry’s head forward as he slides a pillow below his neck. Barry settles down into his new blanket and pillow, their softness and warmth not necessarily taking away his discomfort completely but definitely easing it up a bit.

He opens his eyes now that his head is carefully cradled. Joe is standing over him, arms crossed. His face is all smooshed together and his eyebrows are deeply furrowed in concern. Barry wishes he would stop worrying, it’s just the flu.

“’M fine, Joe.” He tries to croak out. His voice sounds terrible and it probably doesn’t help ease Joe’s worry but hey, it’s the best he can manage. He adds in a weak smile just for kicks.

Joe returns with a hesitant smile. “Of course, Barr.” He looks off to the door and Barry knows he doesn’t want to leave him alone. “I put your phone on the coffee table,” Barry looks in that direction for confirmation. “So call me if you need anything. Anything. Got it?” Joe fixes him with a stern expression that’s likely to settle his own nerves.

Sick or not, Barry still finds it amusing so he gives a small smile. “Got it.”

Joe nods firmly before his face softens up. “Feel better soon, Barr.”

Barry nods to the best of his ability. Joe steals one last swipe through his sweaty hair before he’s moving away and out the door. Barry hears the door shut, the lock click in place, and Barry is all alone.

His day floats by in a lazy and detached manner. He throws up two more times, grateful that Joe had the foresight to leave a plastic bowl by his side. The TV was left on the Discovery Channel for Barry’s entertainment. A program is on near the start of his day that’s about rats and Barry tries to watch it but his mind loses focus near the beginning and he fades away from reality. He moves between disorienting fits of sleep and wakefulness. Most of the time, he’s not entirely sure if he’s even awake. His body temperature fluctuates, sometimes making him frozen as he tries to huddle inward for more warmth. Other times he’s covered in scorching heat, throwing the blanket across the living room. He later regrets that move when he gets cold again.

Barry’s aware that he’s alone but he’s switching between his living room and dreams of his living room so often that he feels like the world isn’t even real anymore. Once, he dreams about the rats in the program and he wakes up thrashing around so badly that he has to throw up in the bowl. Another time, he’s eleven again and his parents are tucking him in with smiles on their faces but Barry doesn’t want them to go because he knows his mom won’t come back. Really, he just wants the sickness to go away.

Around midafternoon, Barry wakes up to Joe’s warm hand feeling his forehead again. For a moment, he thinks it’s another dream but then he opens his eyes after a few minutes and Joe is still there, sitting on the very edge of the couch with his hand on Barry’s forehead just like Barry had imagined in his not-so-dream dream. His face is still creased with the same lines of worry from earlier and Barry’s so out of it that he wants to reach up and poke the wrinkles on Joe’s own forehead. 

“Hey, Barry.” Joe says, his voice soft and delicate and practically a whisper. Joe glances down at the floor quickly and Barry can tell from his expression that he’s spotted the bowl of vomit. “How’re you feeling?”

Barry wants to speak up and tell him that he wishes he couldn’t feel anything, but he’s too worn out and his throat is sore from all of the vomiting so he merely raises a shaky hand and gives Joe a pitiful thumbs up. Thankfully, that gets Joe to chuckle a little.

Joe stands up and Barry doesn’t want him to leave, but it’s okay because he’s just retrieving the blanket and he’s back soon enough, draping the blanket over Barry once more. 

“I’ll be right back.” Joe assures him. Barry waits, his head feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton. At least he’s got his blanket back.

He’s staring blankly at the opposite wall when Joe returns and kneels by his side, blocking his view of nothing with his concerned face. He sticks something in Barry’s ear and it doesn’t register that it’s a thermometer until it beeps and Joe pulls it back out.

If at all possible, the creases on Joe’s face deepen when he reads the tiny electronic screen.

“What’s up?” Barry asks. He can’t really crane his neck to peek at the results.

“104.1.” Joe states grimly. Barry thinks that’s pretty high, but then again his temperature does run hotter than it did before the lightning. “We should get you to S.T.A.R. Labs.”

Joe moves to start getting Barry in an upright position but Barry holds out an arm to stop him. With much difficulty, he swallows and says, “It’s not that bad.” At Joe’s skeptical look, he continues. “Seriously. I usually run pretty hot.”

“Barry, before today, we didn’t even know if you could get sick.” Joe argues. “That’s too many unknowns for this cop.”

“If it gets worse,” He pauses for a moment. All of this moving is making him dizzy. “Then I’ll go tomorrow. Promise.”

Joe still looks uncertain but he accepts the deal. Great, Barry realizes after Joe’s gone to the kitchen to fetch him some of his high-calorie bars and some orange juice. He just gave Joe something to hold over his head as an incentive to make Barry eat.

Barry delicately eats some of what Joe brings him, mostly because he hasn’t eaten anything all day and Joe is constantly threatening him with his promise.

With some food in his system and his stomach cooperating for the time being, Barry’s able to get a decent nap unlike his dozes from earlier in the day.

He’s aware of Joe putting a damp washcloth on his forehead before settling back in a chair, turning the news on with the volume down low. Barry drifts lazily in and out of sleep, comforted by the fact that he’s no longer alone in the house.

Some immeasurable amount of time passes by until he’s stirred by the front door opening and closing. Iris must be home. Part of him wants to wake up fully and greet her, but another more persistent part keeps him tired and still. Joe must have called her to inform her about Barry’s illness because she remains silent as she enters, not bothering to start talking about her day or trying to rouse Barry from his much-needed slumber. 

A pair of soft lips brush gently against the top of his head before moving onward. He hears Joe and Iris converse quietly until he hears her soft footsteps retreat to the kitchen.

Knowing that his family’s all home, Barry finally lets himself float away into a more permanent sleep, his body finally succumbing to his illness.


	3. Chapter Three

III.

Barry wakes up slowly, his consciousness rising in a lazy manner that tricks his foggy mind into believing he’s been asleep for years. 

At first, he’s not sure where he is. He knows he’s at least home, the scent and warmth from his childhood something that he doesn’t need open eyes to recognize. The blanket over his body and the pillow beneath his head are also recognizable as items that typically reside on his bed, but the soft yet lumpy cushions under him are too fragmented to be his actual mattress. He wants to open his eyes and solve this mystery but he’s too tired to wake up and face what is likely to be a blinding light.

There’s some soft background noise. Barry’s so disoriented that he can’t tell where it’s coming from, every sound that echoes reaching him and sounding like it just moved through water. Maybe he could go back to sleep. That way, Barry would be able to forget about all of his worries and eliminate the overwhelming achiness and exhaustion that’s taking him over with every second he spends awake. 

He should probably be more concerned about his lack of awareness but he knows he’s home so he’s safe and he counts that as a win.

Instead of focusing on his current predicament, Barry tries to recall what could have led to this situation. Sadly, he remembers being sick the day before, a recollection that makes him wrinkle his nose in disgust when the memory makes his stomach threaten uneasiness. He remembers, more or less, his day spent in a hot and cold delirium until Joe had come home, gotten him to eat a little, and then had let him collapse in a pathetic heap on the couch where Barry had remained and slept for approximately a century. Well then, he must still be on the couch if that’s where Joe let him rest last night.

At least that problem’s solved. Still, he’s stuck with the battle between getting up and testing his health, something that sounds horribly unappealing at the moment, and staying in this position for as long as humanly possible. The second option sounds much better in his opinion, so he opts to snuggle up as best he can in his blanket as he tries to sink into the couch cushions.

But of course, there’s this tiny, responsible part of Barry’s brain that’s still active despite all of the vomiting and delirium he’s been suffering through. This part of him keeps him from truly settling down in the couch again. He can’t rest when he remembers that he’s the Flash, that there could be people out there who need his help while he’s trying to make excuses so he can get maybe an extra hour of sleep. Barry’s gut churns, but the guilty pit that forms isn’t a result of his illness. And his day job…

Oh no, Singh might actually kill him if it turns out he’s slept in once more, sick or not. He will be the next level of fired, he will burst into flames from the ferocity that will be Singh’s anger. Fear for his job security is finally what tears Barry’s eyes open and forces him to sit bolt upright, moving to a seated position with such urgency that he may use a bit of his speed to complete the task.

His conclusion had been correct when he had decided that he was lying on the couch. The morning light of the living room is thankfully dim, only pouring in from the windows with all of the house’s artificial light mercifully turned off. The background noise he had faintly registered comes from the TV displaying the local news at a low volume. Barry gets distracted by it for a few moments before he realizes he doesn’t even know what’s happening and he fixes his attention on the rest of the room.

Sitting off to the side in one of the armchairs is Joe. The man is bent over, fully dressed for his day of work and almost ready except for the shoes he’s currently working on tying. When Barry suddenly jumps into a sitting position, Joe startles away from his feet and sits up, his shoes hastily finished. Barry must look pretty disheveled because Joe narrows his eyes in suspicious concern and approaches Barry. It’s probably his instinctive fatherly instinct that makes Joe press his hand against Barry’s forehead, but Barry doesn’t mind the steady presence to keep him grounded. 

But, almost as quickly as he put it there, Joe withdraws his hand with a disapproving frown and Barry tries to pretend that he doesn’t almost fall over without the support. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Barry answers immediately. He does feel a bit better, if not dizzy and tired, but anything is better than his non-stop vomiting from yesterday.

Joe hums in that way that conveys his lack of belief and Barry has the urge to stand up so Joe can’t stare down at him, but he doesn’t because the couch’s soft cushions are so inviting and his legs don’t want to move. “You still feel a little warm.”

“Honestly, Joe,” Barry assures him. He tries to hide every hint that might even suggest he doesn’t feel well and he smiles. “I feel better.”

Joe sighs but Barry knows it’s a sound that means Barry’s won so he waits patiently as Joe comes to terms with his defeat. “Fine.” Joe glances down at his watch and smirks. “If you can change fast, we can probably still make it to-” 

Before Joe’s even done with his sentence, Barry’s off, changing into a simple red sweater and pair of jeans within seconds. He arrives downstairs in front of Joe with a gust of wind and a dizzy spell he’s able to recover from when Joe’s eyes are closed, shielding him from the breeze.

“Typical.” Joe mutters as he slides his coat on and walks out the door and to his car. Barry follows closely behind, shaking his head and rolling his shoulders in an effort to fully wake up. In general, he still feels hot and achy and lightheaded but he needs to get out of the house and work before he starts to go crazy. Besides, he’ll need to get over to S.T.A.R. Labs when his shift is over as they still have a metahuman to catch. 

The drive is silent. Barry zones out five minutes in and stares out the window, perfectly aware of Joe glancing at him every few seconds. Deep down, he knows that going to work isn’t a good idea but he can’t stay cooped up in the house while his friends work hard to track down the meta from the other night.

He must slip into a partial state of sleep because he only notices that they’ve arrived at the precinct when Joe gently rouses him. Barry doesn’t look back at Joe when he exits the car, the face of concern he would find if he happened to turn around too prominent in his mind already.

Thankfully, Joe lets Barry go to his lab without a fuss, the older man hanging back to go to his desk and likely talk to the captain. The climb upstairs is more taxing on Barry than usual. Each step is harder than the previous one and his head is spinning and stomach is trembling from nausea by the time he finally makes it to the top. Regrets are swirling around in his mind when he has to stop in the bathroom to throw up before he can finally unlock his lab and collapse in his desk chair.

Barry goes through his work a lot more slowly than usual, which is definitely abnormal for him. He missed one minor break-in from his sick day so there are a couple of prints he needs to go through but other than that, there are only a few more reports that he needs to finish and hand over to Singh by the end of the day. 

He zones out more than once and ends up banging his head on the desk multiple times as a result. In two hours, he’s only been able to check the prints against the database and finish one of his reports. Joe stops by to make sure he’s still awake and alive and he stays for an achingly long twenty minutes to watch Barry eat one of his calorie bars. Joe doesn’t tell Barry he looks like crap and Barry doesn’t mention feeling poorly so they seem to reach a silent agreement that they will avoid the topic until they’re out of work.

More time goes by and he throws up again in the bathroom down the hall, deeming the calorie bar pointless. On the bright side, he does manage to finish another report and take a brief nap by the time lunchtime swings by.

He’s rolling a pen back and forth on his desk, the centrifuge humming at the opposite end of the room, when there’s a faint knock on the doorframe. He spins around slowly, raising his head from its position against the desk when he sees Iris standing with a paper bag and a small smile on her face. 

“Hey,” She greets, raising the bag like a trophy. “Lunch?”

Barry sits up fully and resists the urge to stretch and yawn. He gestures for her to come in and she enters the lab happily, perching herself on the edge of his desk and dropping the bag down on a short stack of papers. He can smell the Chinese food in the bag without the top even being open and his stomach tumbles a little in protest.

Iris pulls the bag open, letting out all of the steam right in Barry’s face. He wants to eat, he wishes he could eat, but he’s not so sure that his stomach agrees with his sentiments. He wrinkles his nose when the smell hits him, but Iris is focusing on taking out a few cartons of food so his cover isn’t blown yet.

Barry settles for some steamed rice picks at it with a plastic fork Iris got him. He manages a few tentative bite, but he mostly pretends to be eating as he tries to ignore the protests coming from his stomach. Iris cuts him some slack in the conversation department. He knows that she can tell he still feels like crap so she’s trying to distract him by talking about some things going on at CCPN. He appreciates that she’s trying to help him out, but he can’t focus on her lively work stories.

Pretty soon, Iris has to pack everything up so she can head back over to work. She frowns at all of the leftover food but she doesn’t comment until she’s slung her purse over her shoulder and has risen from her seat on the desk.

“Barry,” Iris starts, her voice taking on that compassionate and concerned tone she gets when protecting her family and friends. “You need to go home.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sick,” She states bluntly. “And you’re not going to get any better if you keep stupidly pushing yourself.”

Barry keeps his eyes trained on his shoes. He knows that looking up will break his willpower. They wait in silence for a few more moments, both too stubborn to say anything else. Finally, Barry hears Iris sigh in defeat and her hands rests supportively on his shoulder for a moment before her footsteps click away and disappear into the hall. When he finally finds the energy to lift his head, she is long gone, probably downstairs reporting to Joe on Barry’s condition before she heads back to work.

The rest of his workday passes by in a surprisingly exhausting blur. He runs a few tests on the blood from the centrifuge and records his results. He dozes lightly on a couple of files after he finishes another long overdue report. He distantly hears his phone buzzing a few times, but it’s so far away and if there happened to be an actual emergency, Barry’s pretty sure his friends would come get him.

Barry probably naps for another hour before there’s firm hand gently shaking his shoulder and pulling him back toward consciousness. He blinks blearily at his sleeping computer monitor and he turns around to find Joe rousing him. 

“Hey, Barr,” Joe says softly. “Time to head over to S.T.A.R. Labs, we don’t want Singh to find you sleeping in here, do we?”

Barry grimaces and rubs his eyes. “No S.T.A.R. Labs.”

“Don’t you want to find the metahuman that attacked you?” Joe questions. Barry knows that his foster dad has an ulterior motive, but Barry figures that he might as well humor him.

“Fine.” Barry groans. He rises from his chair slowly, muscles screaming in protest and his stomach giving a threatening lurch forward. Still, Barry grits his teeth and stands, determined not throw up on his foster father and affectively blow his cover. He turns off his computer, gives his lab a final glance, and heads out into the hallway with Joe. Barry can feel Joe’s concerned eyes burning his back so he does his best to straighten out his shoulders and at least look like he’s feeling better.

They go straight to the elevator once they’re downstairs, so Barry assumes that Joe’s already told Singh that they’re heading out. Barry’s grateful that Joe made sure to inform their boss before he’d gotten Barry. Barry’s not up to talking to anyone at the moment.

In the car, Joe lets Barry stay in his own little world. He doesn’t pester Barry for his current condition, he just drives and doesn’t comment as Barry’s forehead slides down the glass of his window as his strength fades away. Barry has a feeling that Joe’s waiting for everyone at S.T.A.R. Labs to be the ones to knock some sense into Barry, but he’s determined not to let that happen.

The drive passes by quickly and soon enough, Barry is walking out of the elevator with Joe, his feet dragging as they make their way to the cortex.

Cisco is working at the monitors, typing away furiously with a crease in his brow and a lollipop in his mouth. Caitlin and Jay are off in one of the separate rooms hovering around a microscope, Caitlin gesturing wildly as she speaks and Jay nodding every once in a while. 

“Hey, Cisco.” Joe greets, announcing their presence.

Cisco’s head nods up slightly. “Hey, guys.” He stops typing and spins around in his chair, his eyes widening when he sees Barry. “You look like crap!”

Joe actually snorts and Barry tries his best to glare at both of them. “Thanks, Cisco.”

“Dude, I’m serious!” His friend continues. “Like, actual, bed-ridden crap.” Cisco’s eyes narrow suspiciously and he slides back a little in his chair. “Are you contagious? ‘Cause whatever you got, I don’t want it.”

Barry rolls his eyes, but he regrets it as soon as he starts to feel nauseas. His head suddenly feels like and his face feels cold so he blinks a few times to try and get the feeling to pass. Cisco’s nose is wrinkled up at him and he’s practically cringing away in that stupid chair but Barry can’t find it in himself to focus on that because the world’s a little tilted and he needs to concentrate on not falling over.

“Are you gonna throw up?” Cisco asks before turning to look at Joe. “Is he gonna throw up?”

“I hope not.” Joe grumbles. “Just let him sit down.”

Without a word, Cisco vacates the seat and Joe gently nudges Barry in its direction. Barry plops down in it gratefully, immediately running his hands over his face and through his hair. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.” Joe mutters, not at all believing it. 

“Yeah, no.” Cisco says behind his shoulder. “I really doubt that.”

Barry misses having the energy to glare.

The click of heels across the floor makes Barry raise his head. Caitlin and Jay have emerged and are approaching their small gathering. Jay is frowning and Caitlin has an intense combination of professionalism and worry mixed into her expression. 

“Barry,” She starts to say. “You should really go lie down.”

“I’m okay.” He says. When she fixes him with a determined stare, he continues. “Honestly, I’m just a little sick. It’ll pass.”

“Barry, your body underwent extraordinary changes after the particle accelerator exploded.” Caitlin says. “So much of it is unknown territory that we can’t take any chances, even if it just seems like the flu.”

“Caitlin, if it gets worse, I will come to you. But I’m fine, promise.” 

She is still biting her lip, but she nods slightly so Barry counts that as a win.

He decides to move the conversation away from him. “So, have we figured out anything about our meta?”

Jay joins the conversation. “Caitlin and I went back to where you fought with her and we’ve been working on analyzing what we found there.”

Barry nods and swallows thickly when his brain feels like it’s rattling around inside of his head.

“I went to interview the witnesses yesterday to follow up on the break-in at Mercury Labs.” Joe is standing directly behind Barry with his arms crossed around his chest. Any other time, Barry might consider him a little too close but Joe’s calming and supportive presence is soothing to his aching head and stormy stomach. “Mostly, the scientists were upset that so much of their research and equipment had been destroyed but they were able to give a description. She was wearing a mask, but it’s a start at seeing if anyone can recognize her.”

“What were the scientists working on in there?” Barry asks, his voice sounding too loud to his sensitive head.

“It was some research on potentially genetically modifying some poisonous plants in order to become antidotes. So far, they’re only in the very early stages of development, but now they’re even further off schedule due to the meta wrecking all of their stuff.” Cisco informs the group. They’re probably only discussing this for his benefit, as they have more than likely already went over this info, and Barry really appreciates this, he does.

Except his head is pounding and his throat feels like it’s already filled with bile and he can’t focus while his brain is trying to point out every painful part of his body. Barry can’t tell if they’ve continued on with the conversation until he feels Joe’s heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Barry, you with us?” Great, that concern is back and Barry doesn’t know if that’s worse than his actual sickness.

“Yeah.” He says, but that’s all he can manage and he doesn’t have the energy to raise his head and give an encouraging smile.

The heels are clicking on the floor again and Caitlin is next to him, urging him to lift his exhausted head with kind words. Her hands are cold on his flushed cheeks as she tilts his head from side to side and takes in his condition. 

“Why don’t you go lie down in the other room, okay? You can sleep for a bit while we keep working.” Caitlin tries to offer him a compromise.

Barry’s tempted to listen to her, to go and sleep in a nice soft bed where he’s safe and looked after. But, that piece of him that wants the security his friends offer is overwhelmed by that part that fills him with guilt, that part that reminds him of all the pain he’s caused over the past year. Because he can’t possibly stand to look in his friends’ eyes and see concern he doesn’t even deserve, Barry shakes his head.

“Nah, I’ll just go home and sleep.”

Caitlin’s eyes are narrowed but she doesn’t argue with his decision. She looks up at Joe for a moment and they seem to have a silent conversation over him, one that probably pertains to making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. While he understands where his friends are coming from, Barry can’t help but feel a little insulted when they automatically assume he can’t watch over his own well-being.

Joe helps him stand and they walk back to where they came from, the well-wishes of his friends bidding him farewell.

Maybe Barry should have stayed behind, should have worked with his friends and gotten some actual medical care, but his brain might actually be trying to escape his head and his stomach is rebelling so Barry can’t help but long for his dark room where he can be alone for a while. 

At home that night, Joe tucks Barry in like he did when he was a kid, and Barry lies awake in bed for hours as his body tries to tear itself apart.

He barely sleeps.


	4. Chapter Four

IV.

Barry doesn’t feel better when he returns to work the next day. 

In fact, Barry feels worse, almost as if all of the energy that had remained with him has now completely drained away. He just wants to forget everything and lie down, but he can’t. There’s too much responsibility resting on his shoulders, there are so many people that the Flash needs to save and he can’t run the risk of taking another day off. He can’t waste time being knocked off his feet by an illness when so many people need his help. Barry listens when his team lectures him on accepting help and taking some time to himself, he really does. But sometimes, he wonders if they truly understand why he can’t simply take a day off. They all play their own parts in protecting the city, but it’s different for Barry. It’s different for the Flash who runs the streets and feels the rush of adrenaline and occasional guilt depending on how his day goes. Even if he wants to spend the day puking and sleeping, Barry knows that there is no way he can stay away from his duty for long.

Though he tries to act as casual as possible, Barry knows that Joe is trying to alleviate his worry by hovering. More so than usual, Barry finds his naps at his desk being interrupted by the arrival of Joe, his visit complete with an irrelevant question about a case Barry’s pretty sure was finished a week ago. Long after Barry has mumbled a reply and sluggishly returned to his paperwork, Joe still remains. For about ten minutes, he wanders around the room, pretending to look over some of the cases lying around when Barry really knows that Joe is focused on him. With the excuse of suddenly being needed downstairs. Joe escapes the room with one last glance at Barry, not returning until the process repeats itself in about an hour. 

On maybe Joe’s third trip upstairs in just as many hours, he seems to finally decide to confront Barry on his condition.

“How are you feeling?” He asks calmly.

Barry appreciates that Joe is getting straight to the point, because it feels like a headache is beginning to surface and he’s not sure how much criticism he can take before he snaps. 

“Fine.” Barry replies. Rather than look at Joe, Barry chooses to stare at the case file in front of him and write something down that may or may not make any sense.

Joe sighs and Barry’s shoulders tense in preparation for the lecture that is sure to follow.

“You’re not.” Joe continues. “And if you keep going on like this, will you ever be fine?”

Barry rolls his eyes and shuts them as soon as pain spikes through his head. “That’s over exaggerating.”

“I’m serious, Barry.” Though Joe’s tone sounds harsh, Barry knows that concern motivates him. “You need to take a break and you need to let us help you.”

“I don’t need any help with this, Joe.” Barry turns his chair to face his foster father, his hands lying in his lap in a way that he hopes will cover the fact that he’s actually trying to clutch his rebellious stomach. “It’s just the flu, it’ll pass soon. But I can’t stop, people out there need me and they can’t afford for me to just stop when they’re in trouble.”

Joe frowns and crosses his arms. “If you keep doing this to yourself, there won’t be a you to protect people at all.”

Barry wants to sigh, he wants to make Joe see his perspective and accept the fact that he won’t be stopping anytime soon. Oh, sure, he would like nothing more than eternal sleep at the moment, but there’s a dangerous meta on the loose and who knows how many other crimes that are occurring that Barry needs to stop.

Before he can open his mouth to counter Joe’s argument, Barry’s phone rattles and vibrates on his desk. Joe looks disappointed, but he also appears understanding when they both recognize Cisco’s contact photo and Barry has to answer the call.

“Cisco? What’s up?”

“Hey, yeah, I know you’re not doing too great, buddy,” Barry wishes Cisco could see his glare. “But there might be a situation in need of your special abilities.”

“Where?”

“Central City Bank. Several perpetrators and hostages inside. The police have been called in, but I’m pretty sure a certain someone could get there faster.”

“I’m on my way.” Barry hangs up.

Joe is giving him an evil look that is clearly torn between reluctance and the acceptance of what Barry has to do. 

“I’ll be okay, Joe.” Barry assures him.

The older man merely sighs and points at him sternly with his index finger. “You damn well better be.”

Barry barely has the time to smirk before he’s rushing off in a gust of wind, changing into his suit quickly. He’ll surely get a lecture on the mess of blown away papers in his lab when he returns, but there is no time to worry about that when he’s racing to stop a crime.

He finds his way into the bank easily enough, the bolted main entrance not stopping him as he is able to zip his way through a maze of forgotten entrances until he finds himself standing on the tile floor of the main room. The run has made Barry feel more nauseous than before, but it is something he can hide away for the moment with adrenaline pumping through his system.

Three men wearing dark clothing, ski masks, and carrying assault rifles stand at the center of the room. Two are huddled close together, leaning their heads in as they harshly whisper amongst themselves. The third stands a short distance away, his eyes sweeping along the crowd of people they’ve trapped as his finger taps threateningly on the trigger.

Barry counts twelve hostages, seven appearing to be customers and the remaining five consisting of employees. They all sit together on the cold floor, some crying, a few praying, and a couple staring at space with blank, hopeless faces.

The third robber that stands away is the first one to notice Barry standing in the room. Immediately, the man raises his gun and points it at the Flash. Barry lifts his arms so he doesn’t look like a threat, and he focuses on not letting the world spin away.

“Don’t move, Flash!” The third robber yells. The other two, their conversation now interrupted, startle at their partner’s voice but soon copy his actions when they too see Barry.

“I don’t want any trouble, fellas.” Barry calls back to them. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a few of the hostages sit up straighter, their faces gawking at him in awe as some wipe away their tears. Luckily, he can’t see any injuries on them.

A different robber, one that stands between the other two, huffs out a chuckle and shakes with amusement. “You being here is doing just that.”

“If you just come on out nice and easy,” Barry pauses to swallow the bile rising in his throat. “Then the police might give you a kinder punishment.”

The last robber scoffs. “Yeah, right.” He raises his rifle a little higher, making Barry’s already unsettled stomach sink even further. Instinctively, Barry pushes his arms out in a gesture of peace.

“No one has to get hurt!” Barry calls out desperately. He’s not really in the best condition to be negotiating with criminals, bet there’s really no other choice.

“You should have thought of that before you came here, Flash.” The middle robber shouts. If Barry had to guess, he’d think that he was the leader of their little group. “Really, we weren’t planning on hurting anyone, but now that you’re here, won’t that make this a little more fun?”

As the leader grins through his mask, Barry feels all of his blood drain from his face. A trio of bank robbers just had to add a little action to his day, as if the past few days haven’t been exciting enough. Barry just wants to get this over with and reward himself with a long nap, but peoples’ lives are at stake and he needs to be extremely cautious, especially with his poor health currently diminishing his performance. 

As soon as the leader starts to approach the small group of hostages, Barry shoves aside all of his doubts and aching body parts and he just runs.

He grabs the slowly approaching leader and tosses him into the two other robbers who had been standing perfectly in line like a pair of bowling pins. Two at a time, he picks up the hostages and rushes them out the back door he originally snuck in through.

The robbers are standing and armed when Barry returns for the final two hostages. The remaining hostages are now kneeling, one a young girl and the other an older man with the label of manager on his shiny nametag. Two of the robbers are standing behind their respective hostages, each holding the tips of their guns against the backs of the hostages’ heads. The leader is standing calmly off to the side. 

“Can you save them both?” The leader teases.

Barry clenches his gloved fists and moves.

There’s no time to think through what he’s doing, no time to contemplate every possible error, no time to be indecisive. He only has the time to rush forward as quickly as possible with no concern over how dizzy he feels after lurching forward so suddenly. There isn’t really a coherent plan in his mind, just thought after thought telling him to get the hostages out of the line of fire. 

Barry knows he can’t waster precious milliseconds even picking them up properly, so he shoves first the girl, then the man away from the robbers just as the first bullets start to fly. He hides the two sobbing hostages behind one of the empty counters then rushes back at the robbers. But this time, they’re ready for him.

All three have their guns raised, bullets spraying everywhere. Barry dodges as best as he can, but his exhaustion and illness is starting to catch up with him, his world tilting every which way and his stomach following a similar pattern. He’s almost reached the robbers when two sharp stabs of blinding pain appear in his right side.

It feels as if his side is being torn apart as he slides across the floor and into the robbers. They are all knocked off of their feet, but none groan more than Barry as he grasps at his side with one hand. With the other, he fishes around blindly for one of the guns. As soon as he has a firm grip on the handle, he swings it around wildly until he’s certain the robbers won’t want to get up anytime soon. The danger now gone, Barry grunts and crawls away from the robbers, his wounds rubbing painfully against the floor. His torso drags along the tile, leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake that he thinks may cause problems later on. But he can’t find it in him to care, because his already weakened body is now being bombarded with this horrible agony in his abdomen.

The world wants to fade away, and Barry is afraid he might just do that when a crinkling voice sounds over his coms. “Barry? What happened, man? Your vitals are going crazy!”

Barry doesn’t have the strength to find his voice and respond, but Cisco does give him the motivation he needs to press his hands messily over his gushing wounds and stand. His midriff feels like it’s being torn in half, but he grits his teeth and stumbles for a few steps before he manages to take off running.

The world is blurry enough without the help of his super speed, but the thought of reaching S.T.A.R. Labs is able to guide him through every unfamiliar street and sloppy turn. Distantly, he wonders if he’s leaving behind a suspicious trail of blood. 

Cisco is yelling frantically in Barry’s ear, but Barry’s breath is too spent and he can’t muster any words to assure Cisco that he’s alive.

Finally, Barry’s feet are sliding to a stop in the cortex. Cisco spins around immediately, rising from his chair with widening eyes as he spots what Barry is clutching at. Barry looks down at his stomach and sees the mess of dark blood and torn cloth marring his already crimson suit. He’s so dizzy and tired and looking down is making him want to close his eyes.

“Barry-” Cisco starts to say as he carefully moves forward but Barry is giving up on staying upright. The black spots in his vision convince his knees to go weak and make him collapse. “Barry!”

His eyes are mercifully closed, but he’s not gone yet. The world sounds like it’s submerged in water, flowing and rippling over his unmoving body. He feels his mask get peeled back from his face, his sweaty skin coming into contact with cool air. A tight pressure is being held against his side, and he moans and tries to wriggle away until he realizes how hard moving is. Somewhere far away, Barry can hear Cisco calling out for Caitlin, but he doesn’t really care. His side is aching and his entire body feels too hot and he can’t really find it in himself to care about staying awake much longer. 

Curiosity makes him pull his heavy eyelids open for a few seconds. Though his vision is blurry, he can clearly see Cisco and Caitlin kneeling over him, their faces panicked and worried. Their hands are coated in red stuff that Barry vaguely registers as his own blood. Though she’s worried, Caitlin is still keeping a level of composure only a doctor could retain. She shouts something at Cisco and he scrambles away and out of Barry’s sight.

Caitlin must notice his semi-awareness because his attention is drawn back to her when her fingers tap gently against his cheek. Barry slides his eyes over to her and finds her smiling face. Her lips move and her eyes blink, but Barry can’t register a word she is saying. She must be really worried, so Barry tries to give her a grin. It must look pretty sad and pathetic, because her face falls and a frown replaces the smile. Desperately, Caitlin is tapping his cheeks as his eyes roll around, looking at her face, the lights, the ceiling, and then her again. She might say his name, he might even hear her, but his gut is filled with fire and the edges of his vision are fuzzy. He wants to stay around longer, he truly does, but he’s too tired to keep his eyes open.

Barry hears echoes of his name and tastes the metallic tang of blood on his lips before he’s floating away from reality.


	5. Chapter Five

V.

Barry dreams of fire while he sleeps.

He’s in a dark place, a blackened room only illuminated by flashes of light jumping off of him as he runs around in circles. He can feel the heat burning his back, the flames licking at his skin like a tongue of a dragon. He might as well be running around in a fire because the pain is inescapable and he can’t even breathe as his precious oxygen is pulled away. 

The sweat trickles down the side of his face, making a trail that starts under his mask and inches sluggishly down his cheek. The hot pain of the fire is consuming him, spreading to his limbs and his torso and not leaving a single part of him untouched. Barry wishes he could beg to someone for mercy, he wants to cry out at anyone for some precious water. But no matter how much he yells, no matter how loudly he screams, he is all alone in this world, left to fend for himself against unstoppable fire. No one can hear his cries though he is desperate for help.

After what feels like an eternity of agony and loneliness, a small beam of light breaks through the darkness. At first it’s only a tiny stream that peers through a miniscule crack in the darkness, only a small glimpse that Barry barely even notices. But then the light grows. It spreads and spreads until the darkness begins to crumble like a falling building and Barry can see the gorgeous light above him. Though the fire still burns his flesh and he wants nothing more than to vanish so the pain will stop, the light is comforting. It’s a warmer heat, a force that reminds him of why he keeps fighting, why he won’t let this fire bring him down forever. This light seems to burn away the worst of the fire, even if it is still there, and he doesn’t feel so alone anymore.

From the comforting light, Barry can hear a familiar voice calling to him. He can’t place a name to the voice, but he knows that hearing this person’s voice means he’s safe. This voice has always been a source of friendship, of compassion, of love. When he hears this voice sweetly calling his name, telling him to fight and to hold on, he knows he has to listen because this voice means home.

For this voice, he’ll fight off anything, including an eternal wall of fire that he can’t escape.

For this voice, Barry runs faster. He runs around in infinite circles as the fire eats away at him right down to his bones and finally, what is left of the horrible darkness begins to crumble away and the light grows stronger. The voice fades in and out but Barry is still able to latch onto it and be pulled away from the darkness. 

The nightmare falls away and Barry finds himself awake.

He doesn’t open his eyes yet. His head feels like it’s been filled with cotton and there’s no possible way he can lift his heavy eyelids when his whole brain has transformed into fried mush. All of his limbs have apparently been replaced with concrete so there is no hope for him moving anytime soon. Even with the nightmare gone, the heat is present and real and it burns uncomfortably across his body. Though his entire body is currently throbbing in agony, his torso is the worst. He can sharply feel the two spots in his side where he was shot twice, both of the injuries screaming loudly as it aches with the beat of his heart. He wants nothing more than to leave reality once more and go to a dream that is less painful and fiery.

The only solace he has comes in the form of a hand clutching his, effectively grounding him despite his injuries. The skin is smooth and cool and comforting against the furnace he feels he’s turned into. Though his mind is a bit fuzzy at the moment and he isn’t quite sure who is holding his hand, the contact is certainly comforting. 

Without opening his eyes, Barry knows that he’s lying down somewhere in S.T.A.R. Labs. The bed is stiff, but not entirely uncomfortable and the sheets happen to be fairly cool. He can hear the slow beeping of a machine by his side and he feels the annoying itch of an IV in the crook of his arm. There are a few quiet voices whispering in the distance, but Barry can’t make out what’s being said.

Just when Barry thinks he could go back to sleep, there’s a light touch on his arm that would have made him flinch if his body was in the mood for motion.

“Barry?” A soft voice calls out. It’s a woman who he definitely knows, but it’s not the same voice that saved him from his nightmare. “I know you’re awake, Barry, there’s no use pretending you aren’t.”

Though the voice has called his bluff, there is no way that Barry is going to open his eyes. He’s way too tired for that.

“C’mon, Barry. Open your eyes for just a second so I can check up on you. Then you can go back to sleep, I promise.”

As much as Barry wants to stubbornly resist what the voice is asking him to do, the woman sounds worried and desperate and he knows that she is a friend, that she is there to help him. Besides, the hand that is clasping his so tightly is definitely supporting the fact that this new voice only wants to help him. His face feels like it’s about to melt off and his head is pounding persistently, but he slowly starts to peel his eyes open.

At first, the world is extremely blurry. The typically bright lights of the lab have been dimmed for his comfort and he can barely make out shapes swimming around in his field of vision. All of the colors in the room have been swirled together like a watercolor painting that had been left out in the rain. Off to his right, he can see the sleeping figure who owns the hand and an open doorway in the distance. Soon, the world begins to focus and even with his eyes partially closed, Barry can tell that Iris is the one who holds his hand. 

Surprisingly close to his face, Barry finally makes out the features of Caitlin’s face, her expression pinched with professionalism and concern. Held in her hand is a small flashlight, one that she shines over his eyes with a brief smile on her face. Around her form, Barry can’t see any of the regulars hanging about S.T.A.R. Labs but he almost finds himself too tired to care. Almost.

“There you go,” Caitlin says encouragingly. She frowns when she sees Barry’s eyes flit quickly over his surroundings. “What’s wrong?”

Barry wishes he could speak, he really does, but his throat is too dry and his vocal chords seem to have taken a vacation. Unable to communicate his worry over the whereabouts of the rest of the team, he tries to stare pointedly in the direction of the cortex.

“Where is everyone?” Caitlin confirms. Barry nods and immediately regrets it when a sharp pain travels from the base of his skull all the way up to his forehead. “Joe and Cisco are at the precinct dealing with the situation, Professor Stein is down in the labs, and I’m not really sure where Jay is. Don’t worry,” She concludes as she places a consoling hand on his burning shoulder. “Everyone is fine, you’re the one you should be worried about.”

He allows his body to relax, the tension falling away and leaving him to deal with the pain that echoes throughout his body. It’s times like these that make him wish there were painkillers that actually worked on him.

“Barry,” Caitlin says quietly. “You really need to rest. You’re in pretty bad shape. When you’re doing better, I promise I will explain everything to you but right now you need sleep, okay?” 

Instead of nodding again, a mistake that Barry will not be repeating, he chooses to respond by letting his eyes fall shut once more. He hears Caitlin sigh in relief, then he’s gone once more.

This time, there are no more nightmares. Actually, he’s not that sure he’s fully asleep because no matter what lazy darkness he drifts through, he still has some sort of clue as to what’s happening around him. Iris’ hand rarely leaves his, and if it ever leaves, it’s back before Barry can panic over its loss. Around him, he can hear the voices of his friends moving about the room, sometimes increasing in volume until Caitlin silences them with quick and harsh words. Sadly, the pain is still with him as he sleeps, his bones aching and his torso throbbing with no end in sight.

When he wakes up, the pain isn’t any better. In fact, it may even be worse than before. Along with the persistent headache, the sweltering heat, and the agony resonating from his abdomen, he still feels sick. He can still feel the heat rushing throughout his body, the churning of his stomach even though he hasn’t eaten in ages.

Barry is able to open his eyes without any insisting on Caitlin’s part, which he considers a huge accomplishment. In the same manner as before, the world stays blurry for a few moments before clearing up.

The room is much more crowded, now. Iris is still at his side, hand still holding his, but she is awake and her attention is directed at the center of the room. There, Barry can see Caitlin, Cisco, and Joe standing in a half circle and discussing something in sharp whispers. Behind them, Barry can see Jay leaning back against a counter with his arms crossed over his broad chest and a deep frown on his face. Overall, the atmosphere of the room is extremely tense with all five of them wearing expressions of concern and discomfort.

He can’t sit up with the war being waged inside of his abdomen, so he tilts his head in Iris’ direction so he can see all of his friends. So far, none of them have noticed that he is awake and he would smile at his sneaky manner if even the thought of that action weren’t so exhausting.

Luckily, he can speak this time around. “What’s goin’ on?”

In unison, all heads snap in his direction, the conversation suddenly halted in favor of his unexpected awakening. All of them rush to surround his bed except for Jay who hangs back and wears a relieved expression instead. Caitlin looks over his vitals on the beeping monitor next to his bed and proceeds to examine him. It’s only then that Barry notices he’s shirtless and from the amount of open space he can feel under the sheets, he’s only wearing his boxers. 

“How are you feeling?” Caitlin asks. The room is eerily silent aside from her words, the monitor, and Barry’s strained breathing.

“Like I was hit by a truck.” He replies in short gasps. Caitlin checks his eyes like she did before. She moves down his body, taking his temperature with a frown and inspecting his skin. Finally, she reaches the middle of his torso and that’s when Barry sees the thick pads of gauze taped over his side, little splotches of blood soaking through the surface. She peels the gauze up from the bottom to inspect the wounds and even though Barry can’t see the injuries from this angle, he can tell from the look on her face and the biting of her lip that it isn’t good. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Caitlin asks him.

His head is rolling around on the pillow and he’s not entirely sure where he should be looking. He feels a bit dizzy and disoriented but he does remember what occurred to put him in this state.

Barry doesn’t feel like he could convey a proper nod, so he chooses to speak. “Yeah.”

Already, the bed is starting to feel confining. He’s sweating profusely and every part of him wants him escape. Following his body’s wishes, Barry starts to move his arms to raise the rest of him up. The IV tugs inside of his arm and Iris’ hand grips his even more snuggly and the rest of his team rushes forward, Caitlin making it to his side the fastest so she can press her hands down gently on his scorching shoulders.

“No,” She insists. “You are not going anywhere for a while, Barry. Not until we figure out what’s going on with you.”

He sinks back into the bed and frowns. “What do you mean?”

She bites her lip again and looks back for some support. Cisco raises his hands in defense and Joe is focused on staring a Barry with intense concern that could probably burn a hole straight through Barry’s skull. In an attempt to reassure his foster father, Barry ignores the cracking of his dried lips and gives Joe a small smile. Joe returns it but he definitely doesn’t appear to believe Barry’s assurances.

“After you were shot and came back here,” Caitlin starts to explain. “Cisco and I had to treat the two gunshot wounds you had received. One of them had barely scraped against your large intestine so I had to perform surgery to make sure the laceration didn’t grow larger. Then I stitched up your wounds and you’ve been asleep for three days, not counting when you barely woke up last night.”

She pauses for a moment to glance at Barry and make sure he is still following her story. His head is still fuzzy but he’s been listening carefully so he gently nods so she can continue.

“In that time, Barry, all of your wounds should have been fixed by your regenerative healing ability. But, I’ve been routinely checking them and none of them have healed at all.”

Despite the heat that has spread throughout Barry’s body, he feels a cold chill roll down his spine.

He can’t heal anymore?

No, no, that can’t be right. When he had taken down those robbers, his speed had been just fine and that’s when he had received his injuries. There’s no way that his healing could have gone down the drain while his speed had remained intact. 

“That’s not possible.” He croaks. “I was running just fine a few days ago.”

Caitlin shrugs and looks like a caged animal and Barry realizes that she is just as puzzled as he is. 

“We know, bro.” Cisco pipes up. His eyes, like the rest of the group’s eyes, are lined with dark smudges of exhaustion. “That’s why we’re so confused. We were just talking about it when you finally decided to wake up.”

If his head hadn’t been pounding so painfully, Barry would have rolled his eyes at him. 

“Along with your injuries,” Caitlin says. She obviously looks uncomfortable to be the bringer of bad news. “That sickness you’ve had hasn’t gone away. Barry,” She sighs in exasperation. “When you came in here after you’d been hurt, you had a fever of 106.3. That’s enough to have put any normal person in the hospital a long time ago. When I just took it, it had only gone down to 106.” 

Huh. That explains all of the horrible heat he’s been experiencing. 

“Do we have any idea what’s wrong?” He asks.

All of them look nervous at the question. Iris squeezes his hand tighter. 

“I took a blood sample while you were unconscious.” Caitlin says. “There seems to be some sort of poison in his blood that I can’t trace back to any known kind of plant or animal. It’s likely been attacking your immune system, which would explain why you have your speed but not your healing abilities.”

Barry gives a small nod and lets his head roll around a little more. It’s much easier to just let his eyes point wherever rather than focus on one thing at a time. As he remains partially zoned out, the conversation continues.

“Is there any way to make an antidote?” Joe asks. His voice sounds incredibly worried and Barry feels a little guilty for doing that to him.

“No.” Caitlin’s voice sounds muffled. “I would need a much larger amount of the actual poison to be able to synthesize anything like that. Besides, we don’t even know how he came into contact with the poison in the first place.”

Cisco sighs. “This is a real pickle.”

Jay finally speaks up from his position away from the action. “We can’t have Barry not healing. Who knows if the poison won’t start chipping away at his speed too.”

As the discussion fades away into the background, Barry finds himself staring at Iris as a way to keep himself awake. Her features, while marred by fatigue and worry, are also showing strength and determination, something that Barry has always admired about her. No matter how dire the circumstances, she has always been prepared and willing to do whatever necessary to overcome any and all obstacles. Barry’s just afraid that there will be no solution this time around.

But then, Barry starts thinking. He muddled, tired, dizzy mind starts thinking and remembering and a cold weight settles into his heart, reminding him of his lovely encounter with the strange metahuman the other day.

His head rolls to his look down at his right bicep. Lying there across his skin, looking like he had just received the wound minutes ago, is the cut that had come from the metahuman’s spikes.

“Guys,” He says in a painfully ragged voice. Immediately, the conversation stops and all attention is back on him. Iris leans in a little closer. “You remember that meta I fought not too long ago?”

“Yeah,” Cisco nods. “Green Thumb.”

All eyes turn to him. He simply shrugs.

“Seriously?” Caitlin exclaims. “That’s the best you can come up with?”

“Hey,” He says defensively. “I don’t see you coming up with any good code names!”

“Anyway,” Barry continues with a slur in his voice. “She shot these crazy spike things at me that scratched me on the arm. I got sick right after that, so maybe they could have had the poison on them?”

Caitlin nods. “That could be the case.” She frowns. “Why didn’t you tell us about this after it happened?”

He attempts a shrug. “It didn’t seem that important.”

A collective groan rises from the group and Barry can’t help but think he may have made the wrong call on that.

“We found a bunch of those spikes at the crime scene.” Joe says. “None of them appeared to have any poison on them.”

“Yeah.” Jay says. “When Caitlin and I checked it out, all of the stuff we brought back here to analyze didn’t have traces of any kind of poison on them. The poison probably evaporates after long periods of time.”

“Which means we need fresh spikes.” Iris says. “Which also means we need the meta in order to get some.”

“Luckily for us,” Barry says. “It seemed like the meta was looking for revenge on those scientists. If the meta had a connection to Mercury Labs, then she should be easier to find.”

“Great!” Caitlin says as she claps her hands together. “We will get on that! In the meantime, you need to rest more. If you can’t rely on quick healing to heal your wounds, then we’ll need to save as much as your energy as possible.”

As much as Barry would like to be up and helping the team find out who this meta is, Caitlin is certainly right about him needing more rest. Just from being awake for these few minutes, he feels entirely drained and he is still filled to the brim with agony. This time, he’s willing to listen to her demands and rest some. 

He barely notices when the rest of the team files out of the room to give him some space. Jay gives him a nod, Cisco pats his foot, and Joe goes so far as to walk up to Barry and give him a gentle hug. 

Joe smiles tightly at Barry. “Get better soon, okay?”

Barry smiles back with what little energy he has left. “Got it, Joe.”

Joe is the last one to exit the room, leaving behind only Caitlin and Iris with Barry.

As Caitlin looks over his vitals and adjusts the IV in his arm, Barry rolls his head so he can look up at Iris. She smiles delicately at him and brushes her free hand through his hair. 

“You should go sleep.” He says. 

She laughs at him and pats his hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He doesn’t argue with her, but he hopes she knows how grateful he is.

As his body burns and aches, Barry is grateful that he has something soothing to hold on to.


	6. Chapter Six

VI.

Though Barry is used to the disapproving stare Joe had perfected while raising him and Iris, the one he is giving Barry at the moment has to go down on the top ten list of exasperated looks he has received since moving in with the Wests. “This is a horrible idea.”

Barry grimaces at his foster father but he knows better than to reply. Since waking up the day before, Barry had upgraded from lying down shirtless in a stiff hospital bed to wearing a t-shirt and sitting up in a stiff hospital bed. He would find this quite the accomplishment if he didn’t feel just as crappy as he had the other day. Joe’s loud and pointed disapproval certainly isn’t helping.

Caitlin bites her lip and helps Barry lay back against the fresh pillow she retrieved for him. “Barry, you know Joe is right. There is no way you can go to work tomorrow. Your fever is still way too high and your wounds have barely healed. If you do anything even slightly straining, you could get rid of all of your progress.”

He crosses his arms to the best of his ability, both the IV in his arm and the soreness of his abdomen limiting his motion. “C’mon, guys, I’ve still gone to work after I was hurt worse and it was fine!”

His doctor frowns at him and Barry wants nothing more than to sink down into the sheets and cower for all eternity. But his side twinges at the mere thought of that and he is once again reminded that movement is a bad idea. “Yes, but in those instances you had your full healing capabilities. I was completely confident that even the worst of your injuries would be healed within a day at most. Now, Barry, we can’t rely on your abilities to do the work for you. We have to tough it out and hope that you’ll be better in no time.”

She grabs his wrist gently in a comforting gesture. Her touch is chilly against Barry’s flushed skin, something Barry is really happy about. He looks up at her face, at her tired eyes and pale cheeks that have been worn down from countless hours of working on him. He realizes that as painful and irritating his current predicament is for him, it’s just as bad for Caitlin. For the past year, she’s been able to find comfort in the fact that she can pull him through bad situations and his healing abilities will handle the rest, no sweat. But now, she no longer has that contingency to fall back on, and it must be terrifying.

Barry is in no way, shape, or form doubting Caitlin’s competence as a doctor. This situation would be concerning for any experienced physician. 

“Hey,” He says up to her. His attempt at some reassuring words would go much better if his head wasn’t pounding so harshly and forcing to speak in a pathetic whisper. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find a way to solve this.”

Caitlin smiles at him and pats his arm. She turns to look at Joe, her face immediately falling back into its tired state. Barry follows her gaze and finds that Joe looks just as exhausted and overwhelmed as she does. As a matter of fact, if all of the members of Team Flash were gathered in front of Barry – as many of them have left to pursue other tasks and their day jobs – he’s certain that all of them would be sporting the same tired expressions. They have all been stumped by their elusive metahuman and the current lapse in Barry’s abilities. 

For a brief moment that takes Barry’s breath away, he’s afraid that they won’t be able to solve this.

Both Joe and Caitlin seem to sense that he’s not backing down from his case to leave the next day, no matter the physical cost, so Joe approaches his bedside and pushes Barry’s shoulder into the pillow. The gesture is nice, but Joe’s hand is surprisingly warm and the sensation grates on Barry’s nerves.

“How about you stay here for the rest of the day,” Joe compromises with a shrug of his shoulders and a glance in Caitlin’s direction. “And then we’ll see how you feel by tomorrow.”

Barry doesn’t want to admit it, but this whole conversation has been extremely draining. Any energy he had upon waking up has been sucked away. With each passing second, all of his ailments have become more apparent to him. His headache is unrelenting, his throat has started to itch, his skin burns, his stomach churns, and the bullet wounds in his side pulse hotly. Already, he wants to relax entirely and take a nap before anything gets worse. As his heart beats pain into his body, he’s starting to like this deal more and more. 

“Fine.” Barry says for the sole sake of appearing as if he is calm and collected.

Wide grins spread across the faces of Joe and Caitlin and they are clearly prepared to congratulate each other on their small victory. Barry doesn’t even have the energy to be mad at them for being so happy, he just manages a small grin in their general directions as he sinks fully into the pillow and stares lazily at the ceiling.

Joe pats him once on the arm before he leaves the room, heavy footsteps clunking on the tiles as he leaves for work. The ceiling has turned into a spinning mess of boredom and nausea so Barry turns his head to watch as Caitlin adjusts his IV and sneaks a peek at his vitals. She nods in satisfaction and moves to the other side of the bed so she can look at his covered bullet wounds. Barry’s head follows her. This time, she shakes her head in dissatisfaction. 

“Anything different?” Barry asks.

Caitlin looks up at him and shakes her head as she carefully smooths the gauze back over his wound. Even with her fingers being so light, his skin throbs uncomfortably in response. “No, it’s the same as yesterday.” She sighs and moves to criticize him from the end of his bed. “But, it might be better if you stayed in bed longer rather than foolishly pushing yourself before you’re ready.”

“Uh-uh.” He responds. “We had a deal, you don’t get to judge after we made a deal!”

She smiles. “Fine, no judging for the moment.” Caitlin walks over to her workbench at the opposite end of the room, her heels clicking on the floor until she sits down in one of those wheeling chairs that it appears all doctors are required to own.

While Caitlin fiddles with her microscope and starts to pipet various liquids into vials, Barry loses the ability to keep his head looking in her direction so he falls back to stare at the ceiling once more. He tries to take a nap since he has nothing else to do but his mind is simultaneously going as fast as he does while also moving in sluggish circles. As much as he wills himself to sleep, he can’t in the heavy heat his body is surrounded in. He tries to shift positions a couple times, but each attempt ends in hot spikes of pain emanating from his injuries so he eventually stops.

After what feels like hours of him trying to find a way to sleep, though it has probably only been 10 minutes, Caitlin is still working away at her workbench. Barry decides that his curiosity is better than mindlessly staring at the ceiling so he chooses to bother her.

“What are you working on?” He asks, his voice much more slurred than he would ever care to admit.

“I’m trying to synthesize a painkiller that would work on you.” Caitlin replies. Her voice is slightly muffled by her face being pressed against the microscope, so she turns to explain herself to him. “Essentially, most painkillers work by interrupting signals sent from nerves to the brain.” She looks at him to check if he’s following her thought process so he gives a short nod that rattles his head. “Your metabolism has been so fast since you were struck by lightning that it’s always burned through painkillers before they have the chance to take effect. But, if I can make one that is potent enough and resilient enough to stay in your system, it could finally work for you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “How potent?”

She looks a little sheepish and tilts her head to the side. “Potent enough to be an overdose for one of us.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what kind of answer he was expecting. “That’s really potent.”

Caitlin smiles sadly at him and sets her pipet down of the table. She walks back over to him and looks over his vitals on the monitor before looking down at him with a concern he is all too familiar with. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

He shakes his head and regrets it when his brain starts to implode. “Too hot, I can’t sleep.”

Caitlin squeezes his hand briefly and walks out of sight. This time, he can’t even fathom looking at where she’s going. Besides, she’s back in under a minute, armed with a wet washcloth that is nice and cold when she puts it on Barry’s forehead. He sighs in content and closes his eyes, relishing in the relief he’s been given.

“Better?” She asks.

“Better.” He confirms.

After that, he’s able to take a few short naps. Most of them blur together and the only way he is capable of keeping track of time is by the subtle changes throughout the day. He can feel it when Caitlin changes the washcloth on his head, the new one dripping precious cold water down the side of his face. She moves around the room, sometimes sitting at her workbench and then standing next to Barry the next time he opens his eyes. At one point, Cisco comes up from his lab to sit by Barry’s side. He must have arrived in the middle of one of Barry’s naps because one second the chair is empty and the next, Cisco is leaned back with his feet propped up on the edge of Barry’s bed as Caitlin quietly scolds him from a distance. 

Barry is grateful for Cisco’s company once it’s there. Singlehandedly, Cisco eliminates the stiff silence of the room and talks to Barry whether or not he is awake. He tells old stories that overly-exaggerated twists and cheesy punchlines and even though it hurts to laugh, Barry appreciates the humor. There’s a smooth quality in Cisco’s voice that rises and falls so rhythmically that is so soothing to Barry’s scrambled mind, meaning he can drift in and out of consciousness comfortably. When he’s awake, Cisco’s animated storytelling provides a welcome distraction from all of the pain Barry is in. 

Sometimes, Barry wakes up when Caitlin is checking his stitches and Cisco’s persistent voice keeps Barry breathing deeply so he can make it through. When all of this is over, Barry’s certain that he owes his friend a huge fruit basket.

In the evening, Iris stops by briefly to wish Barry well and press a soft kiss to his forehead before she heads home. Joe comes back and Barry sits up straighter and tries to look awake enough so he can actually get out of bed the next day, even if it goes against everything his body is telling him to do. 

He knows that it’s probably a horrible idea to even consider moving when he’s still so incapacitated, but he also knows that he can’t stay put for another day without going insane. He hates being unable to do anything and he hates being treated as fragile by his friends. He knows that they mean well but he’s the kind of person who needs to be up and moving and active even if it isn’t the greatest idea at the moment. 

Joe leans against the doorframe, analyzing him as Caitlin and Cisco stand off to the side and do the same thing in a less-than-subtle way. Barry has started an intense staring contest with Joe, one he refuses to give up on, meaning that he’s either going to win or die trying. 

Finally, Joe breaks the tense silence but he doesn’t break eye contact with Barry. “I still think it’s a horrible idea for you to be out of bed when you’re clearly not doing any better.”

“I agree with Joe.” Caitlin says. She has the stern expression on her face, the one she has whenever she’s issuing her professional opinion on something. “Only rest is going to help you heal until we can fix what’s wrong and moving around is definitely going to risk pulling your stitches open.”

“Dude,” Cisco pipes up. “No offense, but you look absolutely awful right now and I can’t imagine how going to work is going to do you any good.”

“Come on, guys.” Barry pleads. “I can’t stay here forever. Besides, I need to get back to work soon and I might as well start tomorrow.”

“The Captain understands why you’re gone, Barr.” Joe assures him. “You’re on sick leave because you are sick. I’m sure he’ll be fine with you taking more time off.”

“Please. I’ll make sure to eat and Joe can check in on me.” Barry scrunches his face up in discomfort. “And if you think it’s really necessary, he can check and make sure that I don’t pop any stitches.”

Caitlin looks conflicted and she looks at Cisco as if to ask for his opinion, but he looks just as troubled. Eventually, she sighs and crosses her arms. “Only if you eat everything and you stay seated the entire time you are there. If anything happens, Joe will bring you right back here and that will be the end of the discussion. Got it?”

Barry nods after each condition is stated and excitement mixes with the sickness in his gut. He finally breaks eye contact with Joe, having won the contest. 

He goes to bed that night feeling jittery from both sickness and anticipation. Still, as happy as he is to have won, he can’t help the sense of dread that crawls into the back of his mind.

. . . 

The next day, Barry is up a long time before he has to go to work. He would like to say it’s because Caitlin was grumbling around the room he was in with the obvious intention of waking him up, but it’s probably more than likely due to the fact he slept for three hours at most the night before, spending the rest of that time shifting restlessly and alternating between shivering and tossing his covers away.

But Barry doesn’t mention all of that to Caitlin. She already hates this plan enough without Barry giving her extra reasons to keep him in S.T.A.R. Labs. 

Joe stops by with a change of clothes and a ride to the station. They leave the room to give him some privacy and Barry tries not to focus on their not-so-quiet conversation at the other end of the cortex about how they plan on getting him back to a place of resting. Meanwhile, Barry does practice keeping his hands steady as he puts on the stuff brought him and ties his converse slowly on his feet. He manages to walk out to them without stumbling, which he finds is quite the accomplishment, and he bids the reluctant Caitlin a cheery farewell even though he feels like he’s about to melt into a puddle due to the heat he’s experiencing. But, by the time he’s walking out to the car with Joe, he has to zip his jacket up all the way to keep out the sudden cold. 

The entire car ride, Barry keeps his arms wrapped his torso, his elbow pressing down on his bandaged side to prevent it from moving as much as possible whenever they drive over a particularly large bump. At the moment, his stomach is remaining surprisingly cooperative and he hopes it will remain that way for the rest of the day. Joe is silent the whole time, occasionally glancing at Barry’s hunched form with a look mixed between concern and stubborn pessimism.

They make to the station without Barry throwing up, which he counts as a win, but as he’s getting out of the car, his torso twists uncomfortably and he remembers why he shouldn’t even be upright at this point in time. Joe is still getting out of his own seat and making his way around the back of the vehicle, so Barry uses his limited amount of time to breathe through the pain until it lowers to a tolerable level. He’s able to stand up straighter just before Joe reaches him to raise a judging eyebrow and walk next to him for the rest of the way. Barry resists the urge to rub his side the whole way and, thanks to his episode, he mourns the return of his rebellious stomach.

Joe doesn’t mention it when Barry chooses to take the elevator instead of the stairs and though his desk is downstairs, Joe sticks by his side even into the elevator. Really, Joe doesn’t mention anything as he follows Barry around. Barry guesses that it’s a form of silent treatment that won’t be resolved until one of them admits that their idea is horrible. As that will never happen, Barry knows he might as well make Joe speak earlier on.

“You don’t have to come to my lab with me.” Barry says. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“No way.” Joe replies immediately. At least it wasn’t that hard to get Joe to talk. “You want to go to work before you’re even close to ready, you follow my rules.”

“Joe,” Barry sighs. He knew this conversation would come eventually, what better place to have it than an elevator. “I can take care of myself, you don’t have to babysit me.”

Joe actually laughs at that, a bitter, sarcastic laugh that would make Barry’s insides turn if they weren’t already turning. “Of course you can, that’s why we’re in this situation in the first place!”

Barry frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“Barry,” Joe starts and Barry can tell a storm’s brewing in that man’s words. “You always do this. You push us away and refuse to accept any help until it’s too late. I just wish you would trust your friends more, that you would trust enough to take care of you.”

Joe turns Barry by grasping his shoulders and Barry prays that he can’t feel the heat of his fever through his thin jacket. “Listen, Barr. We all love you, we just wish you would come to us more when you need help.”

Barry can’t help the cynical scoff that comes out of his mouth after Joe has finished speaking. “Look where that’s gotten you.” Joe’s frown deepens but he doesn’t interrupt. “Every single time you guys help me, every time I make a decision that affects the entire team, someone ends up paying dearly. I’m sick of being the cause of your problems, and I can’t let that happen again.”

Even with Joe in the middle of a parental scolding, his expression softens. “Barry, we’ve talked about this. You weren’t the only person making decisions that day.”

“But what if I had been?” Barry asks. Often, he had run the events of that day through his head over and over again until he thought it was going to explode. He questioned every move he made, judged every step and tortured himself with wondering what he could have changed to save more lives. “I can’t let you guys get caught in my bad choices like that again, even if that means I have to take care of everything by myself.”

If Barry had thought he was feeling better in the morning even after his long night, then he’d thought wrong. His headache is back and making his right eye feel like it’s constantly twitching. Of course, his horrible stomachache had teamed up with his bullet wounds to make for a spectacular throbbing festival of pain in his side and he was feeling too hot again.

Thankfully, Joe doesn’t have time to respond to Barry’s rant because the elevator doors open with a soft ding and Flash business is officially off business as they walk out and a few cops take their places. Barry quickens his pace to reach his lab, which he enters with relative ease considering the floor was currently spinning in dizzying circles. Unfortunately, Joe had continued to follow Barry into his safe haven.

As soon as Barry plops down in his chair, Joe was approaching him. Apparently having dropped their earlier conversation in favor of discussing it at a better time, Joe had Barry sit up straighter so he could barely lift up his shirt and check on his stitches. He must have passed the test because Joe retreats a few moments later with a curt nod. The older man crosses his arms and leans on Barry’s desk, his face creased with thought as he observes his foster son. Barry tries not to shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Joe finally says with a quick wave of his hand.

Barry rolls his eyes, wincing slightly when the world keeps spinning even after he has finished the movement. “Joe, it’s just one day. Let me finish my work and I promise we can go back as soon as I’m done.”

Joe seems to finally accept that this isn’t a battle he’s going to win so he sighs, squeezes Barry’s shoulder firmly in farewell, and walks out of Barry’s lab. Barry knows he’ll be back, but it’s nice to be alone for the moment.

Rather than jump immediately on his paperwork like he promised, Barry decides to lean back in his chair for a bit to collect himself. He rubs his eyes and pulls his jacket closer to his body as another shiver travels through him. As delicately as possible, he adjusts his lower body slowly to alleviate some of the pressure on both his stomachache and wounds. When he’s moved around to the best of his ability, he rolls his chair closer to his desk and starts sorting through the paperwork that has been left for him.

He manages to get through two files by the time his lunch break has arrived. Whenever he needed to get some test results or do something else in a different part of his lab, he ended up just rolling his chair as it proved to be much easier than trying to stand up again. 

Joe enters the room right when Barry expects him to. Wordlessly, he checks Barry’s stitches again and sits off to the side with a calculating stare as Barry is forced to eat two of Cisco’s calorie bars and at least half of the sandwich Joe brings him. He manages to do the task, but the food in his gut starts to join forces with his uncomfortable stomach and the scent of the other half of the ham sandwich starts to mess with his head. But, Barry doesn’t let any of his discomfort show. Even if he’s starting to regret coming to work, he has to stick with it to the end.

It happens when he’s standing to reach another couple of files on the other side of his desk. He figures that they are close enough to eliminate the idea of using his chair as transport so he rises quickly from his seat and moves around the corner of his desk to reach the files. 

Except he must twist around on his feet or something because one moment he’s standing in a swirling world with black dots spotting his vision, and the next he’s lying down on the uncomfortably cold floor, warm hands gently patting his cheeks and his hearing oscillating. 

Barry gets his eyes open eventually, but they glide through the air and follow each turn of the spinning room rather than focus on Joe, who had been leaving the lab but is now kneeling over Barry, his face horribly twisted with concern and his mouth moving with words Barry can’t hear. 

But his hearing does come back, slowly and sounding as if it has been zoomed in on. He blinks blearily at Joe as his voice finally comes into focus and the spinning of the ceiling starts to slow down and he no longer feels like his body is on a turntable.

“Barry! Barry! Come on, wake up, son!” Joe is calling as he continues to pat Barry’s cheeks even though Barry’s eyes are open. “Don’t do this!”

Wow, the world feels all kinds of horrible right now, but Barry can’t let Joe suffer with worry over him. Somehow, he raises a floppy arm and grabs Joe’s wrist with it, knowing his gesture is working when Joe stops yelling and patting his face and instead holds onto Barry’s hand like it’s a lifeline.

“’M fine.” Barry slurs, his eyes closing again because it takes a lot of effort to stay awake when his body is trying to tear itself apart from the inside. 

“Oh no you don’t.” Joe scolds, patting at his face again until his eyes reopen. When everything’s calmed down and Barry is no longer trying to close his eyes with every breath, Joe sighs in exasperation. “You gonna listen to me now?”

Barry gulps down air and gives a shaky grin. “Think so.”

He doesn’t protest as Joe helps him to his feet and slings his arm over his shoulders. He doesn’t fight when Joe tells the Captain they’re going home early, and he doesn’t fight when Joe buckles him into the car and drives them back to S.T.A.R. Labs, muttering about his stupidity the whole ride.

Why fight when he’s so clearly doomed?


	7. Chapter Seven

VII.

By the time Barry and Joe have parked in front of S.T.A.R. Labs, Barry has almost let himself go completely. He barely feels it when the car slides jerkily into park, barely hears it when Joe opens his own door and rushes around to open Barry’s door. Only when Joe reaches over him and unbuckles his seatbelt does Barry bother to lift his heavy eyelids and observe what is happening. 

Joe’s mouth is pulled down in that all too familiar frown, the lines of his face creased deeply as he looks upon Barry. Barry blinks blearily at him, not as concerned as he should be about his vision being so blurry, and Joe sighs. “Oh, Barry.”

At the moment, Barry knows that he won’t be on the receiving end of any “I told you so” from Joe. He knows that nothing about this feels satisfying to either of them.

“C’mon, Barr.” Joe says as he spins Barry around in his seat so his legs hang outside of the car. “I’m gonna need some help here.”

Barry can’t really move properly. His body is shivering too much to be of any use, so he just sits there and suffers and watches his legs dangle. Joe tries to position Barry so he can get out of the car with ease, but Barry just lets his spinning loll around while Joe attempts to solve both of their problems in one go.

The sound of clacking heels and rolling wheels come from over Joe’s shoulder. Barry finds his curiosity peaked enough that he actually keeps his eyes open so he can see what’s producing the sounds. His eyes must be as wide as an owl’s but if he lets his eyelids slip even the tiniest bit, he’s afraid that he won’t have enough strength to lift them again.

Joe is talking, Barry realizes, and he’s doing so without taking his eyes off of Barry’s pathetic form, something that’s a little creepy. He’s saying something about needing help to move Barry, but Barry only starts to really listen to the conversation after he hears his name clearly spoken. If Barry was willing to use up some energy, he would lean his head to the side so he could peer around Joe’s broad shoulders and see who he’s talking to. But, alas, that sounds too exhausting to him so he resigns himself to sitting limply and waiting for the people to reveal themselves. 

Finally, Joe moves off to Barry’s right, still keeping a steady hand Barry’s knee as a firm display of support. With the wide shoulders out of the way, Barry is happy to find Caitlin and Cisco closing the distance between them fairly quickly, advancing with the same frowns and creases of concern that line Joe’s face. Cisco takes control of keeping Barry upright, managing to plaster a smile across his mouth to look more comforting to Barry. Caitlin takes control of keeping Barry awake, as he’s already grown immensely tired from having his eyes forced open for so long. 

She pats his cheeks and speaks to him in that stern and gentle doctor’s voice he’s become well-acquainted with since last year. “Hey, Barry, I know you can’t really walk right now, so we’re going to move you into a wheelchair.”

He can’t talk well, either, so he just jerks his limp head around a little to show that he understands what she told him. Cisco quickly rushes a few feet away and retrieves the wheelchair they had brought up with them. It’s not the one that Doctor Wells used, it’s just a foldable one that was probably stored away in a dusty storage closet and will serve its purpose just fine. Together, the three of them support Barry and lift him from his seat. He feels a little guilty that he hasn’t really been helping throughout this entire process so he tries to move his legs a little to give them some leverage against the ground. The movement makes the soreness in his lower half extremely obvious, but he pushes onward. By the time he’s finally plopped down in the chair and relaxing against its back, all four of them are huffing and puffing from exertion. 

Barry leans back and puts his own tired feet on the footrests so someone else won’t have to do it for him like he’s a child. The car door is slammed behind him and then they’re off, Caitlin and Cisco walking in time with the rolling of the wheelchair while Joe pushes Barry.

When they make inside the elevator, Cisco presses the button for their level and Caitlin kneels in front of Barry. That uncomfortable feeling of his unsettled stomach and frazzled brain is back and he wants nothing more than to just space out and let them do what they must, but Caitlin pulls a penlight out of the pocket of her lab coat and flashes it over his eyes, leaving him to blink away the sudden stars that break out across his vision. While he’s still recovering from being so disoriented, Caitlin takes his pulse, feels his forehead, and bites her lip just in time for Barry’s eyesight to recover.

The elevator dings pleasantly and comes to a slow stop, signaling for Caitlin to rise and clear the path for Barry’s wheelchair. As soon as the doors open, Joe is back to pushing Barry down the hall and to the cortex, the footsteps of Cisco and Caitlin rushing quickly behind them. They pull off to the side and into the room Barry had previously occupied. The medical bed is still there, its sheets made and ready for his return. The various monitors are in their original places, their screens turned off and the IV stand sitting still without a bag. 

Joe pulls him right up to the bed while Caitlin walks swiftly around the bed so she can start turning the monitors back on. Cisco and Joe help him rise from the wheelchair and lie down on the bed after Cisco pulls back the sheets for him. The motion tugs precariously at the stitches across his flesh, but thanks to Cisco and Joe urging him to move slowly, they do not rip. Once his head hits the shockingly cold pillow, Joe and Cisco take off his jacket and step back so Caitlin can work on him.

Her expression is hard as she leans over him and starts to place various wires on his chest under his shirt. Barry watches as she walks back and forth around his bed, her every move filled with purpose. She orders the two others around, telling Cisco to fetch her a bag of saline and ordering Joe to get her a thermometer. Both of them seem to be inspired by her efficiency as they both return in under a minute. Caitlin thanks them quickly and proceeds to place the thermometer on the bed while she hangs the bag of saline on the IV stand. 

Barry finds himself too tired to turn his head away as Caitlin slides the needle into a vein in the crook of Barry’s left arm and tapes it down. Usually, even though he’s used to being treated for injuries at this point, the sight of a needle in his skin would make him cringe, but he doesn’t have enough energy to care. Caitlin waits for a few seconds to make sure the liquid is flowing, then she grabs the thermometer, places it in Barry’s mouth, and waits until it beeps. When she pulls it back out to look at the reading, her frown deepens and she shows it to Joe and Cisco. Joe’s eyebrows raise dangerously close to his hairline and Cisco lets out a long, impressed whistle.

“Damn Barry!” He says playfully. “You’re really going for a new record.”

Before Barry can decide whether or not to glare at Cisco or laugh, Caitlin adjusts his shoulders so he’s facing the ceiling. At the moment, he can only see Caitlin’s pinched expression hovering over him but Joe and Cisco quickly walk a few steps closer to the sides of the bed so Barry can see them again. It’s a little disorienting to only be able to see the ceiling and not the rest of the room and Barry starts to feel discomfort and panic creeping into his lungs, tightening his chest until his fevered eyes flicker.

“Barry,” Caitlin says, her voice muffled ad not matching up with the movement of her mouth. “Try and get some rest.”

He isn’t even sure how he can do that while he’s so cold and in pain and concerned with his tightened chest but somehow he manages to slip away and let his vision fade to back. 

He doesn’t know if he falls or sleep or passes out, but he’ll take what he can get.

. . .

From then on, things get even stranger for Barry.

He wakes up at random intervals, always disoriented, always confused. Some part of his mind must be comprehending something because he knows that his fever has risen even more, even if he’s so out of it he couldn’t tell up from down anymore.

The first time he wakes up that he can remember, Barry doesn’t even bother to open his eyes. He can feel the light sheets against his skin each time his body trembles with painful chills. Over his forehead lies a cool cloth that leaves a slow trail of water trickling down the side of Barry’s face. The room is quiet, but there is still sound. There is the low hush of people speaking the other end of the room and the slow beeping of monitors to Barry’s right that remind him where he is.

His head aches and he’d still much rather be asleep, but after a lot of concentration he’s able to faintly make out what they’re saying.

“He’s getting worse.” Barry can hear Joe saying with frustration clear in his words. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

He hears a sigh before Caitlin speaks. “I’m treating his symptoms as best as I can, but we’ll need a large sample of what he was poisoned with before I can do anything to cure him.”

“And we can only get a sample from the meta herself.” Joe grumbles.

“I’ve been working on that.” Cisco says softly. “But so far, nothing has popped up. As soon as something does, though, don’t worry, we’ll hear something about it.”

They continue talking but Barry falls asleep before he can hear what they discuss.

He dreams that he’s being alternately dipped in a vat of lava and a tub filled with icy water. Every time he comes up for air he can hear his friends screaming for him and he can even feel hands grabbing for him. But before someone can rescue him, an invisible force slams him in the stomach and he can’t breathe as he is dragged back down.

When he wakes up again, he manages to peel his eyes open. The trio that had been speaking before has now vanished. When he rolls his head to the side, he finds Iris sitting in her chair. She’s leaning forward, he elbows perched gracefully on her knees and her hands clasped tightly together. Her mouth is pressed against her hands, her brow furrowed in the same way her father’s is when he is worried. She doesn’t seem to notice that Barry is awake, and he feels too weak to speak or move too much, so he settles with twitching his right index finger where it lies on the top of sheets.

At the movement, Iris narrows her eyes for a moment before she moves her gaze to Barry’s face. Upon seeing his open eyes, her own eyes widen and she takes her lips away from her hands so Barry can see her smile.

“Hey, Barr.” She says kindly, separating her arms so she can grab Barry’s hand. Her skin is soft and pleasantly warm so he grips her hand with what little strength she has. Even if it’s difficult for him, it’s definitely worth it when her smile widens. “How are you feeling?”

Barry wants to talk to her. He wants to sit up and hug her so the sadness goes away from her face. But he can’t. He’s too tired, too exhausted, he can’t even lift anything more than a measly finger. He can do nothing but blink back at her and hope she understands.

Thankfully, she does. Iris gives a little nod and pats his hand carefully. “That’s okay, Barry.” She tries to notably brighten her smile, but he can tell that she’s only doing it for his benefit. “This’ll be over soon. Cisco’s working on a way to stop the meta. You’ll be better before you know it!”

He blinks again and her expression turns more serious. “Just hang on a little longer, Barry.”

Her voice starts to fade away and Barry closes his eyes. His skin feels hot again and the horrible fog is being pulled back over his mind.

“Just hang on.”

. . . 

He wakes up again, but everything is wrong. 

He’s still sick, that much he is sure of. He can feel the uncomfortable heat in his veins, the pain in his head and the ache in his side. There are light sheets on top of him and he sinks into the stiff mattress beneath him.

But when he opens his eyes, he’s back in his room. Not the room he has at Joe’s house, but his old room, the one he had before his life became on big mess after the other. There entire room looks blurred like he’s seeing it underwater, but he can still make out the fish tank he once owned. Here, he’s eleven and home sick from school because of a fever.

Here, his mom is alive.

She’s standing over Barry, her smooth hair falling over her shoulders and tickling his nose. Her face is pinched and blurred like the rest of the room and Barry wants to cry.

As his eyes start to tear up, she places a cool hand on his forehead and frowns. “Barry, what’s wrong?”

Though he’s still exhausted he manages to find his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

His mom tilts her head to the side. “What for?”

He gulps down a lump of air and his voice comes out in a pathetic croak. “I killed you. It’s my fault you’re dead.”

His mom looks shocked and she puts her hand back on his forehead. “Barry, what are you talking about?”

A tear trickles down the side of his face and into his hairline. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault, Mom, it’s my fault you’re dead.”

His mom’s eyes look watery as she swallows and looks upon him with those soft eyes he misses so much. “Barry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“But it is,” He chokes out. “I could have stopped him, but I didn’t. I didn’t save you, Mom.”

She looks like she’s about to cry with him as she bites her lip. Somewhere behind her, he can hear a muffled sob but that doesn’t make any sense. They’re all alone in his room, and his dad is probably at work. Maybe it came from the hallway?

His bed dips as she sits down and looks behind her with uncertainty. Carefully, she grabs his hand and clutches it tightly in her cold grip. “Barry, listen to me. It’s not your fault. You did the right thing. I’m so proud of you.”

Barry can’t stop the flood of tears at this point. It feels like his throat is being filled with them so he can’t reply to her, he can only cry as she does her best to comfort him.

Eventually, when his sobs calm down, she presses a tender kiss to his forehead and smooths down his sweaty hair with a hesitant hand. “Go to sleep, Barry. It’s okay. Everything will be better when you wake up.”

He doesn’t want to leave his mom. The last time he saw her, she bled out in his arms because of his own actions. If he lets go of her now, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to see her again.

But, he learned a long time ago not to argue with his mom, especially when he’s sick and she might have been crying just as much as him. For the moment, he just has to let go of what he wants and listen to his mom one more time.

He nods up at her and lays back in the pillow, finally letting his eyes slip closed. “I miss you.” He whispers.

Barry goes to sleep to the sound of her crying.

. . . 

Barry finds himself back in his cruel reality.

The monitors beep, his body aches, and shivers run down his spine. Cisco is leaned back in the chair Iris had occupied. His legs are crossed and propped up on Barry’s bed. His arms rest casually behind his head but his body is tense and his eyes flit nervously around the room. 

“Hey.” Barry says, bringing Cisco’s attention to him.

His friend’s face breaks out in a wide grin. “Hey, man, it’s good to see you awake.” His expression suddenly turns serious. “You’re with me, right?”

Barry narrows his eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Cisco shakes his head and the grin returns like nothing happened. “Never mind, I’ll tell you later.”

He wants to press him for more answers, but Cisco looks extremely uncomfortable so Barry decides to drop the topic until they’re both feeling better. Instead, he moves his head as much as he can to look around the room. “Where is everyone?”

“Caitlin went to a different lab to do some tests. Joe and Iris had to go do something at their jobs, I’m not sure what, so they asked me to watch you until they got back.” Cisco informs him.

“Any sign of the meta?”

Cisco shrugs. “Not yet, but I’ve got some new tech searching for her and I’ve made something that we should be able to use to stop her.”

Barry nods. “Good.” He sighs and winces when there’s a tug at his stitches. “I feel so useless sitting here and doing nothing.”

“Hey, man.” Cisco leans forward and pats his leg. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll take care of this and you just worry about getting better. I’m sure you’ll be up and flashing around before you know it!”

“Thanks, Cisco.” Barry smirks.

“My pleasure!” Cisco assures him.

They fall into a companionable silence, leaving Barry to think and worry about what’s to come.


End file.
